Never Go Hungry Again
by SkyWarrior108
Summary: "Rachel's first thought is that she's too thin, too unclean, and entirely too beautiful to be living on the street." For the Faberry Week 2014 prompt "Age Difference."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** I originally intended for this fic to be a long one-shot, but I didn't finish the whole thing in time for Faberry Week. So I am posting a good chunk of what I _do_ have written, and the rest of the story will be posted after I have time to complete it. This is now going to be a two-part fic.

Thanks to chelseablu44 for helping me with legal research and to poetzproblem for being a fabulous beta. :)

* * *

**Never Go Hungry Again - Part 1**

It takes less than one week for Rachel's idyllic imaginings of New York City to be tarnished.

It happens on her first day of classes at NYU—an absolutely gorgeous September morning free from the threat of rain—with Rachel feeling like the world is her oyster. After four years of hard work, she's finally made it, and she just knows that today is going to be the start of something wonderful. Her body thrums with excitement, and she practically bounces in her steps as she walks down East 10th Street. But as she turns the corner onto University Place, she's broken from her revelry.

Sitting mere feet away on what looks like an old, winter coat is a young woman with short, messy, pink hair, wearing dark jeans, a threadbare, black t-shirt, and worn-out sneakers. She's holding a beat-up paper cup and asking passersby for money, and Rachel's first thought is that she's too thin, too unclean, and entirely too beautiful to be living on the street.

What's worse is that most people ignore her completely, and Rachel's heart goes out to her.

She hesitates then, her stomach twisting with uncertainty. Her dads and her RA warned her not to talk to strangers on the street, but Rachel feels like she should give this girl _something_. Unexpectedly, the girl looks up at Rachel, and she sucks in a breath when their gazes lock. She is struck by the girl's eyes—stunning hazel that shine with sadness and a bit of hopefulness—and Rachel swears she can feel those emotions to her very core.

A light, unexpected hipcheck breaks the moment, and Rachel turns to see one of the girls from her floor smiling at her. "Hey, you."

"Hi, Tina," she replies, mentally shaking her head and coming back to herself.

"I was just heading to Weinstein to get some breakfast. Wanna join me?"

"That's where I was planning on going, so sure, I'd love to join you," Rachel replies happily, glad that this whole making friends process is much easier here than it ever was in high school.

They head off to the dining hall together then. Tina doesn't seem to even notice the girl begging on the street, but Rachel can't help but cast a glance at her as they pass by. Their eyes don't meet this time, but there's a sinking feeling of guilt as she walks away.

Breakfast is eaten relatively quickly, but Rachel enjoys the opportunity to get to know Tina a little bit better. Still, the thought of the homeless girl on the corner isn't far from Rachel's mind, and regret lingers for having not given her something.

To ease her conscience, Rachel decides that she will give the girl a dollar when she goes back to her dorm after her morning classes are finished.

But to Rachel's disappointment, the girl is long gone by the time she returns.

* * *

It's dark when Rachel arrives in her dorm room, fresh off a late evening choir rehearsal.

All in all, it's been a good day. She's met like-minded people who she thinks she has a chance at becoming real friends with, and she really enjoyed her classes. But her mind keeps wandering to the homeless girl she saw on the street this morning. Rachel doesn't know why she keeps thinking about her, but the girl definitely left an impression on her—the mere memory of her sitting on the sidewalk with a mostly empty cup in such a haggard state tugging at Rachel's heart strings.

Of course she has always known, even if only in an abstract sort of way, that homelessness exists. But she always pictured it a certain way—older men who aren't all there upstairs—and this girl certainly doesn't fit that mental image at all. How could someone so young and so beautiful end up like that?

Strains of "Defying Gravity" sound out, interrupting her musings, and Rachel's lips automatically curve up into a smile at the sound of her best friend's ringtone. She quickly answers her phone and brings it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Tell me about your day," Kurt says excitedly through the phone. "How were your classes? Any cute boys? Or girls?"

Rachel laughs lightly as she plops down on her bed. "I see where your priorities lie."

"You can't blame me though. You haven't dated anyone since you and Jesse broke up, and that was over a year ago!" he exclaims. "I just want to see if there are any potential prospects."

She rolls her eyes even though she knows he can't see it. "Well, I did meet this guy, Elliot, in my Music Theatre Workshop, but he definitely plays for your team. He's also in my Aural Comp and Music Theory classes. But we really hit it off." She lets out a happy sigh. "I really love it here, Kurt. I know it's still early, but I like my classes so far, and I'm meeting so many wonderful people. It's nothing like high school."

"I'm glad," he says softly and sincerely. "And I feel the same way about FIT. I'm so glad we got out of that closed-minded town."

They talk a little while longer about school and then the topic shifts to _Bring It On: The Musical_ and wondering if it's worth spending the money to see such a show. During their conversation, her roommate returns home, offering Rachel a smile and a wave hello before picking up her guitar and lightly playing it at her desk.

"Ugh, I hate to do this, but I have to go and finish writing a paper," Kurt says.

"Okay," she replies. "We're still on for dinner on Thursday, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he promises. "I'll see you then. Goodnight, Rachel."

"Night, Kurt," she says before hanging up her phone and immediately turning to face her roommate. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," Dani replies, placing her guitar back on its stand. "Although, I can already tell that my math class is going to give me hell. I seriously don't understand why I have to take two semesters of it when I'm going to spend rest of my life working with the written word."

"I'm sure I'll know your pain next year. Although, I'm not exactly looking forward to my writing class tomorrow."

Dani shakes her head with a slight quirk of her lips. "You know I'm more than happy to help you out with that if you need it."

Rachel smiles gratefully. "Thanks."

"Sorry I missed breakfast, by the way. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to will myself out of bed, but sleep trumps food."

"It's alright. I ended up getting breakfast with Tina." The mention of breakfast, however, has Rachel thinking of this morning, and, once again, her mind immediately returns to the girl she saw on the street. "Although, I saw something that just broke my heart."

"What?" Dani asks curiously.

"There was this girl on University. I can't imagine she's too much older than we are. But she was obviously homeless and asking for money, and so many people walked past her as if she wasn't even there." Rachel worries her lower lip. "But I saw her, and… and I didn't give her any money, and I wish that I had."

"Don't feel bad about not giving her anything, Rachel," her roommate assures her. "In fact, it's better not to encourage people who beg on the street or on the subways. Besides, you don't even know what they'll spend the money on. It could be for drugs or something."

"I hadn't thought of that," she replies, frowning. "But it might not be for anything bad. It could be for food."

Dani shrugs. "Well, whatever. I just don't think you should feel bad over it."

A part of Rachel thinks Dani is right, but it doesn't do much to shake her feelings of sympathy and regret over not doing something.

* * *

The next day turns out to be just as gorgeous as the one before it.

Rachel once again has an early class, but it's one that she's especially looking forward to—Vocal Performance Workshop. Elliot is in this class too, and she hopes that they'll get a chance to sing together at some point this semester.

In fact, she's supposed to meet up with him before class to grab breakfast at Weinstein, which is the dorm that Elliot lives in, and Rachel knows her path will once again take her down University Place. She wonders if the homeless girl from yesterday will be in the same spot today.

When Rachel turns the corner and sees a familiar pink head of hair and worn clothing, she doesn't know whether to be relieved or not. It would be better if this girl wasn't in the position where she had to resort to begging for money on the street, but at least now Rachel has the chance to make up for yesterday.

Determined, Rachel gets out a dollar, and, as she approaches, the girl looks up at her. Hazel eyes shine with gratitude when she notices the money in her hand, and Rachel wonders if she remembers her from yesterday, or if she sees so many people every day that it's impossible to remember.

"I'm only going to give you this if you promise to use it on food," Rachel says, remembering Dani's words from last night.

"I promise," she replies. Her voice is low and husky and not at all what Rachel expected, and it sends an odd shiver through her. And while Rachel knows the girl could very well be lying, she feels better at least making sure on her end. She hands over the dollar, and the girl smiles as she takes it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rachel replies softly, and immediately, she knows she's done the right thing.

* * *

It continues like for the next two weeks. Each morning, Rachel sees the girl in what she now thinks of as "her spot" on University and gives her a dollar, and, in return, the girl always offers her a quiet thank you, a grateful smile, and a look that Rachel can only describe as relief. It never fails to send a feeling of satisfaction through Rachel.

Of course, she feels like she's making a difference in the world, and that can't possibly be a bad thing. But there's something about this that runs a little deeper, albeit subtly. Rachel feels like she's made something of a connection with this girl, and she feels genuine concern for her wellbeing.

But Tina, for one, doesn't understand why Rachel keeps giving her money, and after a few mornings of silently watching Rachel do so, she finally says something about it. "You realize you're not actually helping her by doing that," she says as they continue walking down University and away from the homeless girl.

"That's not true," Rachel argues. "Everyone needs to eat, and I help her do that."

"That's not what I meant," Tina explains. "She needs to get an actual job."

"You say that like it's so easy. The economy isn't exactly booming."

"I guess you're right, but I still think you're wasting your money."

Rachel feels her irritation grow, but she tries to clamp down on it, not wanting to say something that might harm her newly-forming friendship with Tina. "Well, I don't," she finally says. "I don't have it in me to do nothing, and this is what I can do."

"Suit yourself," Tina replies with a shrug, holding the door to Weinstein open for Rachel.

She silently walks through it, relieved that Tina seems to be done discussing her decision to help the homeless girl the only way she knows how.

* * *

It's not until Rachel actually sees the girl take her money and walk over to the food cart that Dani affectionately refers to as "the man in the box" and buy herself a coffee and a bagel, that it hits Rachel that she _could_ be doing more for her.

So the next morning, freshly showered after her usual workout at Palladium Hall, Rachel makes a quick pit stop at one of the corner delis that accepts Campus Cash and picks up a few things. Granted, her dads loaded up her NYU card with funds for the purpose of buying books and the occasional meal for herself, but she decides this is a worthwhile use of the money they've given her.

Satisfied with her purchase, Rachel once again makes her way toward the Weinstein dining hall as she has so many mornings before. As she turns onto University, the girl notices her approach, and her pink head lifts, lips curving up at the sight of Rachel. "Hey."

"Good morning," Rachel replies with a smile of her own before holding out a paper bag containing a bagel, an apple, and a banana, loving the way those hazel eyes light up. "I figured it made more sense to give you breakfast instead."

"You didn't have to do that," the girl says with a shake of her head, but she takes the bag anyway, never breaking eye contact. "Thank you _so_ much."

"You're welcome," she replies, taking a moment to watch delicate hands carefully open the bag and awed eyes take in its contents, feeling warmth bloom in her chest at being responsible for that look. "I hope you have a good day," she says before resuming her journey toward the dining hall, pleased with herself.

"Wait," the girl calls out after her, and Rachel pauses, turning back to face her and gazing at her questioningly. "What's your name?"

Rachel hesitates, unsure of whether she should divulge such information.

The other girl's lips curve up into a knowing smiling. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me. Thanks again for the food."

She shifts on her feet, the girl's question having piqued her own curiosity. "Will you tell me your name?" Rachel asks instead.

Hazel eyes seem to twinkle a little at the question. "Quinn."

Rachel nods softly, thinking that the name suits her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Quinn."

"Tomorrow then."

* * *

"Rachel," she says, handing Quinn a bag containing her breakfast, just as she's done the last four days.

Quinn's brow furrows in confusion, and Rachel has to suppress her own smile.

"My name is Rachel," she explains. "I figured I owed you it since you told me your name."

Quinn smiles ruefully and shakes her head. "You don't owe me anything, Rachel. You've been a godsend. I can't thank you enough."

"I wish I could do more," she says honestly, and Quinn seems taken aback by her words.

She glances away briefly, and Rachel notices how her hands fidget with the bag in her lap. Something about the sight just makes Rachel's heart break for her all over again.

"You go to NYU, right?" Quinn asks then, meeting Rachel's eyes once more, and Rachel nods, earning her a bit of a wistful smile in return. "What do you study?"

"I'm majoring in music theater," she replies with a hint of pride.

"Ah, so you're a performer."

"I am," Rachel confirms, lips curving up as she clasps her hands behind her back and rocks up onto the balls of her feet. "What about you? Do you sing or play anything?"

Hazel eyes flash with what Rachel thinks might be regret. "I used to play piano," Quinn says after a beat, "but that was a long time ago."

Rachel wonders just how long it's been, and she feels a touch of sadness over the fact that Quinn no longer plays. Not for the first time, she wonders just how Quinn ended up this way, but she can't bring herself to ask for fear of disrupting the easy routine they've fallen into.

"I'm sorry," is the only thing she can think to say.

Quinn shrugs and says it's okay. Rachel can tell it isn't, but, to her chagrin, there isn't really anything she can do about that. Music is a lifeline for her, and she can't imagine what she would do if she lost it.

* * *

As the calendar flips to October, the temperature begins to dip, and Rachel notices Quinn favoring a tattered, black and white striped sweater to ward off the chill.

"Can I ask you something?" Rachel asks one morning as she gives Quinn what has now become her usual breakfast.

Quinn nods. "Sure."

Rachel is tempted for a moment to ask deeply personal questions, but instead opts to go with something else that's been on her mind for awhile now. "I see you here on my way to class almost every morning, but when I come back this way in the afternoon, you're gone. Where do you disappear to?"

"If the weather's nice, I'll go to the park."

"And if it's not?"

"Subway."

Rachel glances up at the sky then, trying to determine whether or not the weather will continue to cooperate. Judging from the looks of things, she's fairly certain it will. "What's your favorite kind of food?" she asks, turning her attention back on to the homeless girl.

Quinn looks at her in confusion before her expression morphs into one of curiosity, and there's a glimmer of tempered hopefulness in her eyes. "I like turkey sandwiches," she says. White teeth press into her lower lip as she hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Any kind of sandwich is good. They fill me up longer."

Rachel's heart breaks a little at the thought of Quinn not having enough to eat, and considering just how thin Quinn is, she suspects it happens way too frequently. She wonders how many times she's gone to sleep hungry or cold or both, and she feels almost helpless in her inability to really help this girl. But she'll be damned if she isn't going to do everything she can.

"Meet me in the park at 1:00, okay?"

Quinn's look of curiosity only grows, but she agrees. "I'll be by the fountain."

* * *

Rachel takes the plate offered to her by the sandwich maker in the dining hall and gives her a thank you before turning to face her dining companion.

"I thought you were a vegetarian," Elliot says staring at Rachel in mild confusion as they wait for his sandwich to be made.

"Vegan," she corrects. "And yes, I am."

"You know, last time I checked, ham and turkey aren't even remotely vegan. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's dead animal that's been loaded up on your sandwich."

Her stomach churns a bit at the thought, but she's willing to put aside her own ethics for the sake of Quinn's health. "You're absolutely right," she says as Elliot's sandwich is handed to him. "But this is about the greater good."

Elliot eyes her strangely as he follows her to an empty table. "Are you, like, one of those people who binges on burgers when no one is looking?"

Rachel blanches. "No, never," she denies, settling down into her seat. She opens up her backpack and pulls out a ziplock bag. "This isn't for me," she clarifies as she puts the sandwich into the bag. "There's this homeless girl that I've struck up a bit of an acquaintanceship with, and I'm making sure she doesn't go hungry."

"That's sweet of you," Elliot replies with a smile.

"Finally, someone who understands," Rachel says, feeling a measure of relief.

Elliot looks at her questioningly.

"Dani and Tina think I'm wasting my money on her and that I'm not helping her," she explains. She doesn't mention the fact that she hasn't told Kurt about Quinn for fear of his disapproval as well.

"Well, I don't agree," he says with a shake of his head. "I think what you're doing is great."

When Rachel finds Quinn in Washington Square Park a half hour later and gives her the sandwich—the way Quinn almost looks at her like she might cry as she takes it with a grateful smile—she knows Elliot was right.

* * *

Rachel sometimes wonders if Quinn is lonely.

She decides that Quinn must be. After all, she is always alone whenever Rachel sees her, which is now twice a day—once to give her breakfast on the sidewalk of University Place in the mornings and once to give her lunch in Washington Square Park each afternoon—weather permitting, that is. (Rachel has come to loathe the rain because it means she won't get to see Quinn—won't get to make sure she's being taken care of in some way.)

There's something about Quinn that tugs at her heartstrings and refuses to let go, and with every passing day, it seems to get stronger. She's not sure what gets to her more—the sight of Quinn sitting on the sidewalk begging for money or the sight of her sitting at the edge of the fountain getting lost in the words of a beaten-up, yellowed paperback book.

Rachel remembers what it was like in high school, before she met Kurt and Mercedes. She remembers what it was like to be alone, to have no one to sit with in the cafeteria, to be ignored. She hates the thought of Quinn having to go through the same thing.

And as her fingers press down on the black and white keys of an electric keyboard, demonstrating how well Rachel can play her scales for her midterm exam, her mind automatically goes to Quinn and how sad she looked when telling Rachel that she no longer played piano.

After acing her midterm, Rachel is dismissed early, and it's with determined steps she begins her march up University Place, hoping to find Quinn in her usual morning spot. Her lips involuntarily curve up into a smile when she catches sight of tufts of pink hair, and she quickens her pace.

"Hi again," Rachel says a little breathlessly as she comes to a stop next to Quinn.

"Hi," Quinn replies, looking up at her with pleasant surprise from her seat on the sidewalk. "What are you doing here? Don't you usually have class right now?"

"Yes, but I got out of my Keyboard class early today," she explains, shifting on her feet a bit and growing uncharacteristically nervous, "and I was wondering… would you like to join me for lunch?"

Quinn looks at her, surprised. "Sure, but, uh…" her gaze shifts down to the cup in her hands. "I don't really have much cash, so…"

"No, my treat," Rachel clarifies, and Quinn's head shoots up, eyes wide, causing Rachel to smile.

"I…"

"Come on, I'm hungry, and I have class in less than two hours."

"Okay," Quinn agrees with a small smile, before getting up from the sidewalk and gathering her things. Rachel watches Quinn as she carefully folds up her coat and tucks it between the straps of her black backpack before slinging the bag over her back and slipping her arms through it.

They then make the short walk to Eva's, a cozy restaurant just around the corner that conveniently accepts Campus Cash. So, okay, technically, it will be Rachel's dads' treat, but Quinn doesn't need to know that. As they walk, Rachel occasionally chances a glance at her companion, feeling strangely excited by the prospect of getting to actually spend time with her. She's still so curious about Quinn.

The host seats them, and Rachel doesn't miss the distasteful look he gives Quinn, who levels him with a glare so fierce that Rachel hopes she's never on the receiving end of it.

Fortunately, their waitress is much more pleasant, and she patiently waits for them to make a decision on what they'd like. Rachel orders the Vegetarian Combination Super Salad. She tells Quinn to order whatever she wants, but she still hems and haws over it, obviously not wanting to get something too pricey. Finally, after some more insistence from Rachel, Quinn settles on the sirloin burger.

"I seriously can't thank you enough for this," Quinn says after the waitress takes their menus, her hazel eyes shining with awed disbelief.

"It's really no problem," Rachel replies with a smile, taking a moment to observe Quinn. She wonders if she's imagining it, but she thinks Quinn maybe has gained a bit of weight in the last month. However, she's still way too thin, in Rachel's opinion.

Quinn fidgets under Rachel's scrutinizing gaze, and heat flushes tanned cheeks as she realizes she's been staring longer than is appropriate. She clears her throat and looks away for moment, taking a sip of her water before looking back across the table.

"So, what made you decide on pink hair?" Rachel asks as they continue to wait for their food, figuring it to be a safe topic.

"It's better than being blonde. Draws too much unwanted attention from guys. It doesn't matter that I'm… well, you know, homeless," she says, looking a little embarrassed as she gestures down at her clothing. "Blonde hair is a beacon for douchebags."

Rachel frowns at the thought of Quinn being harassed. "Is blonde your natural color?"

Quinn nods. "Yeah, but I prefer this. Good thing the stuff I use is cheap and easy to apply," she adds with a wry grin.

Rachel can't help a smile of her own. "I prefer it too. It suits you."

"Thanks," she replies almost bashfully, her cheeks matching her hair as she rubs the back of her neck. She gazes thoughtfully at Rachel then. "Have you ever thought about dying your hair? I think you'd look good with blue streaks."

Rachel laughs a little and shakes her head. "No, I haven't. My best friend, Kurt, keeps insisting that I try the ombre look, but I don't know."

Quinn's eyes narrow in thought, as if she's trying to picture Rachel with said hairstyle. "You could probably pull it off. But I like you with dark hair."

Their waitress returns then with their food, placing Rachel's salad and Quinn's burger on the table before asking them if there's anything else they need. Rachel tells her that they're good, and once again they're left alone.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to ask you a personal question," Rachel says, unable to rein in her curiosity any longer.

Quinn tenses slightly, but she agrees. "You can, but I hope you understand that I might not want to answer it."

"Where's your family? Your parents?"

Hazel eyes briefly flash with what Rachel can only describe as anger. "Ohio, probably," she says. "I don't know though. I haven't seen them in almost five years."

"Oh," Rachel replies lamely and frowns, not sure what to say as she watches Quinn start to eat her burger and decides that she should do the same with her own meal.

She thinks it's incredibly sad that Quinn doesn't see her family anymore, and she wonders what happened. Still, she can tell that whatever it was isn't good, and that Quinn probably doesn't want to talk about it—even though she's dying to know.

But after a few moments of eating her salad, it hits Rachel that Quinn hasn't seen her family in _five years_. "How old are you, Quinn?"

"Twenty-two," she replies after she finishes swallowing, taking Rachel by surprise. She hadn't thought Quinn was that much older than her. "You?"

"Seventeen."

Quinn's brow furrows slightly as she looks at Rachel, clearly puzzled. "I thought you were eighteen."

"I will be soon. December 18th to be exact. I'm just really young for my class, but my dads felt I could handle it and didn't want to me hold me back another year."

"Wait, _dads_? As in more than one?"

Instinctively, Rachel feels her defenses rise a bit, even though there's nothing in Quinn's tone or expression that indicates fear or disgust. But she's proud of her family, and she's always quick to defend it. "Yes, I have two gay dads, and I was born out of love."

"That's cool," Quinn says, holding her hands up in surrender. "Believe me, I have no problem with that. At all. It would be a little hypocritical of me if I did."

The pieces suddenly click into place. "So you're…" she trails off, not wanting to assume a label.

"Gay," Quinn finishes with a quirk of her lips, before taking another bite of her burger.

Rachel doesn't know why that revelation causes an excited fluttering in her belly, but she tries to ignore it, instead opting to prod Quinn for more information about herself.

"Where do you sleep at night? Are you staying at a shelter?"

"No, I don't like shelters," Quinn explains with a shake of her head, her entire demeanor shifting and becoming more guarded. "I have my spots," is all she offers. "But enough about me," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand before smiling again at Rachel. "I wanna know more about you. Tell me about your classes, where you're from, all that good stuff."

Rachel can't help but worry a little about Quinn's response, but she lets it go for now, figuring it's only fair to share something about herself. She spends the rest of her meal telling Quinn about how she's been training for the stage all her life, but that even though she loves musical theater, she does listen to things besides show tunes. Quinn listens attentively, and Rachel is surprised by her genuine interest.

After paying for the check with her NYU card, Rachel leads Quinn back outside, feeling a little bummed that their time together has come to an end. Quinn fiddles with the straps of her backpack as she gazes appreciatively at Rachel, once again thanking her for lunch.

"Thank you for joining me," Rachel counters. "I liked getting to spend some time with you. I hope we can do it again."

Quinn just looks at her in amazement. "I don't know what to do with you, but again, thank you."

* * *

Rachel finds comfort in routines, and she likes to think that her daily visits with Quinn offer a modicum of comfort to her as well, despite the fact that living on the street is far from comfortable.

Unfortunately, Rachel's schedule over the next week only allows her to take Quinn out for lunch one more time. This time they go to Cosi, which isn't far from Quinn's spot on University. Rachel orders a hummus and veggie sandwich for herself and a turkey and brie sandwich for Quinn, who has commandeered a table for them in the corner of the restaurant.

As Rachel makes her way over to their table with a tray of food, she doesn't miss the judgmental and pitying looks shot in Quinn's direction by some of the patrons. Although, if Rachel's being honest, despite Quinn's rundown appearance, when not begging on the street, she looks like she could just be a student who isn't overly fond of showering.

Dozens of questions flood Rachel's mind then—most involving wondering how Quinn takes care of her daily needs. It's obvious that she does maintain some degree of hygiene, however limited.

"You have that look on your face," Quinn says with a touch of amusement as Rachel takes her seat.

"What look?" Rachel asks, handing Quinn her plate.

"The one that says you want to ask me something," she explains. "So go ahead, you can ask me whatever you want. Considering all you've done for me, sating your curiosity is the least I can do."

Rachel blushes a little at how obvious she is. "Okay then. Take me through a day in your life."

Quinn raises an eyebrow in response, but she does as Rachel asks. "I wake up, find a bathroom if possible… if not," she looks away momentarily, rubbing the back of her neck in a gesture Rachel is growing familiar with, and Rachel almost feels bad for asking. "I try to freshen up as much as I can. I have a small supply of toiletries in my bag. Then, well, you see me most mornings. I try to gather enough money to get me through the day."

"What do you spend your money on—besides food, that is?" Rachel asks.

"Toiletries, laundry, subway fares, clothes. But mostly it's food, which lately hasn't been as much of a stressor thanks to you," Quinn replies, gazing at Rachel gratefully. "And, well, you know I like to read. So if I have any money leftover, I'll buy myself a used book. Or sometimes, I can trade one in for another."

Rachel doesn't know how she does it. She doesn't know what she would do in Quinn's position. She still doesn't even really know _how_ she got to be in this position.

"You said your family's probably in Ohio," she says, her food totally forgotten as she shifts forward in her seat. "Is that where you're from, or did you grow up here and they left you behind?"

"I'm from Ohio," Quinn clarifies. "I first came to New York when I was seventeen. Things weren't good at home," she confesses, lowering her voice and averting her gaze, and Rachel doesn't miss how her right hand fists into her napkin. "So I ran. New York felt like it was far enough away that my father couldn't find me, but it also seemed like the perfect place to start over. No one knew me, and I could be anything I wanted to be." She lets out a small, bitter laugh before looking back up at Rachel. "At least, that's what I thought. It was a stupid, romantic notion," she says with a slight roll of her eyes. "The reality was that I couldn't afford to live here, and even if I could, I was a kid on the run, so I had to lay low. I couldn't do anything that involved paperwork, you know?"

All Rachel can do is nod, feeling her heart break all over again for Quinn.

"I burned through my money really fast, and that fall and winter was a crash course in living on the street. It sucked—it still sucks—but I wasn't going back. I couldn't."

Rachel's heart pangs in sympathy. "You would rather have been cold and hungry than live under your parents' roof?"

Quinn smiles bitterly. "Yeah, that about sums it up. I know it probably sounds weird, but at least I felt like I had some control over my life and what happened to me," she explains before finally digging into her meal.

Rachel wants to ask more about her family, about her father, if she left any friends behind, but she can't bring herself to do it, not wanting to dredge up what would obviously be painful memories. So instead she asks, "So you've been living on the street for the last five years?"

Quinn shakes her head as she finishes chewing and swallowing, but there's a flash of resentment in her eyes. "Not the entire time," she replies. "I used to go to parties with kids I met in the parks, and I would often crash wherever it was being hosted. I became kind of friendly with a couple of people. But they weren't exactly good people, if you know what I mean," she continues, not bothering to hide her animosity. "But I had a roof over my head for awhile. I even had a job waitressing at a diner. And then everything went straight to hell," she finishes before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says.

Quinn shrugs, but there's a look of defeat in her eyes, and Rachel hates if she's somehow inadvertently put it there by asking Quinn about her past. For the millionth time, she wishes there was more she could do to help.

* * *

The end of October brings some sobering news. A hurricane is bearing down on the northeast, and warnings have been put in place throughout New York City. Rachel doesn't know what to expect—hurricanes aren't exactly common occurrences in Michigan—but she's a little nervous.

"It's just a bunch of hype," Dani says reassuringly from her seat on the bed as they watch the Weather Channel. Rachel is situated on her own bed, while Tina has occupied one of the desk chairs. "You know, people panic and buy up all the milk and bread and eggs at the store."

"Seriously, what is up with that?" Tina asks. "Is everyone making French Toast or something?"

Rachel and Dani laugh in response, before Dani continues. "Nothing's going to happen. Just like nothing happened when Irene hit last year."

"I think there are some people in New Jersey and Vermont who would disagree with you," Tina argues, grabbing her bag and placing it on Dani's desk. "But you're probably right that nothing will happen here. Still, it gives us an excuse to have a hurricane party," she finishes, pulling out a bottle of Boones and handing it to Rachel.

"I hope you guys are right," she says as she takes the wine, watching the wind pick up on her television screen as the clouds outside grow darker and rain starts to pelt against their windows.

Truthfully, she is more nervous about Quinn than she is about herself. Rachel hasn't seen her in a few days, and she has no idea where she's going to be during this storm. When the weather is lousy, she knows that Quinn often hops on a subway, but mass transit has been shutdown in preparation of the hurricane. Rachel prays that Quinn is someplace safe and not sleeping on a sidewalk as the wind outside begins to howl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Never Go Hungry Again - Part 2**

"All hype, you say?" Rachel says through the darkness to her roommate, who groans from underneath her blankets.

"So I was wrong," Dani finally says, throwing the covers off her. "At least we get out of class."

Rachel shakes her head and turns her attention back to her phone. The battery is running low, and she'll need to find someplace to charge it. But first, she sends off a few quick texts—one to her dad assuring him that she's okay after the storm, despite the loss of power; one to Kurt to check in on him; and one to Elliot telling him she's going to take a rain check on breakfast. The one person she really wishes she could text doesn't have a phone, so she decides to take to the streets in an effort to track Quinn down.

To her disappointment, Rachel doesn't see Quinn on University Place, so she heads down to Washington Square Park to see if maybe Quinn is there. She has to step over quite a bit of debris from the trees, and Rachel feels her worry grow. The wind had been howling last night, and the thought of Quinn being outside in that weather terrifies her.

But Quinn is nowhere to be found, and it only causes Rachel's anxiousness over Quinn's wellbeing to increase. Still, she isn't willing to give up, so she makes a last ditch effort and wanders up to Union Square Park, but to her chagrin, there's still no sign of Quinn. Letting out a long, worried sigh, Rachel finally decides to head back home to Brittany Hall. But as she approaches the corner of Broadway and East 10th Street, she spots a pink head of hair out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, thank God," Rachel says to herself, relief flooding her at the sight of Quinn leaning against the black, iron fence of Grace Church on the other side of the street.

Quinn catches sight of her just about the same time, and Rachel doesn't miss how her eyes light up and her lips curve into a smile. She pushes herself off the fence and grabs her things before walking across the street and meeting Rachel at the corner.

"Are you okay?" The question rushes out before Quinn even has a chance to say hello.

"I'm fine," Quinn assures her before cocking her head to one side. "Playing hooky today?"

"I would never!" Rachel shoots back, a little offended by the idea. "I don't have class today, seeing as there's no power in this part of the city. So I spent the morning looking for you."

"Yeah?" Quinn asks, looking a little awed, and her eyes take on a shine that is so familiar to Rachel, but she has trouble placing it.

"I was worried about you during the storm," she confesses, and Quinn looks touched by her concern. "Did you go to a shelter, or…"

"No," Quinn says with an emphatic shake of her head. "I told you, I don't like shelters. I'd rather stay on the street in a blizzard than go to one."

"So you were out on the street during the hurricane?!" Rachel asks, stricken by the very thought.

Quinn's eyes dart around a bit, and Rachel feels herself grow warm in embarrassment for almost causing a scene. "No, I wasn't out on the street."

"Good," Rachel says, feeling a little bit of relief. "Where were you?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone," Quinn says seriously. "I mean it. Don't call 311 on me or tell the cops."

"I promise," Rachel replies, her curiosity growing along with her worry.

"See that church over there?" Quinn says, pointing at the large, gothic structure across the street. "That's where I've been."

Rachel looks at Quinn in confusion. "How?"

Quinn smirks and lifts an eyebrow. "I'm pretty handy with a nail file."

"Are you saying you've been breaking and entering, Quinn?" she asks, brow furrowing.

"Something like that," she says. "I don't do it too often because it's risky, but desperate times-"

"You could have stayed with me," Rachel interrupts, earning her a look of surprise from Quinn.

"I'm sure your roommate would have loved that," she counters. "Pretty sure she's not my biggest fan."

"When have you ever met my roommate?" Rachel asks in confusion.

"Uh, the Asian chick that's with you on Tuesday and Thursday mornings."

"Oh, no, she's not my roommate," she clarifies. "My roommate doesn't get out of bed before noon most days." She doesn't mention the fact that Dani likely wouldn't approve of how Rachel chooses to help Quinn. A vibration in her back pocket draws her attention momentarily. It's a text from Kurt telling her he's fine and has power. He also asks her if she wants to do lunch. "My best friend wants to have lunch with me," she tells Quinn. "Do you want to come with?"

Quinn hesitates and rubs at the back of her neck, clearly a little uneasy at the suggestion. "Um, I don't know."

"Come on, I promise he doesn't bite," she says with a playful smile. "Too much."

"Alright," Quinn agrees.

Rachel beams and sends a text back to Kurt telling him she'll meet him and that she's bringing a friend.

They meet at Pepe Giallo, a small, Italian restaurant near FIT that thankfully has power. Rachel introduces Quinn to Kurt as her friend from NYU. He looks at Quinn curiously, but he doesn't say anything about her appearance, which Rachel is thankful for—though she has no doubt that he'll be grilling her later.

Conversation is dominated by Kurt and Rachel, but Quinn seems more than happy to sit and listen as she eats her pasta. Although, Rachel really wishes Kurt didn't feel it necessary to bring up the "Run Joey Run" music video recreation (fiasco) she did in high school. But it does earn an amused smile from Quinn, so she supposes her embarrassment was worth it.

"When am I going to get to hear you sing?" Quinn asks then.

"Our choir is performing at the end of the semester, and there's also going to be a recital around that time showcasing us individually," Rachel replies, feeling a touch of warmth at the idea of Quinn wanting to see her perform. "You're welcome to come."

"I'm surprised you're not offering to sing for her right now," Kurt teases, causing Rachel to blush.

"I'm less inclined to burst into song at the drop of a hat," Rachel explains. "I prefer to have musical accompaniment these days."

"Well, I eagerly await the chance to finally hear you sing," Quinn replies with a soft smile and that same look in her eyes that Rachel saw earlier this morning. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Kurt's lips curving up into a smirk.

Lunch comes to a close shortly thereafter, and Quinn bids them goodbye, and Rachel tells her that she'll see her tomorrow. Kurt and Rachel then head to his dorm room so she can charge her phone while they watch a movie.

"So tell me more about Quinn. Who is she, and why does she look homeless?" Kurt asks with a playful grin as Rachel plugs her phone into his charger.

Rachel sighs, hesitating for a moment over whether or not she should tell him the truth before deciding she should. After all, Kurt is her best friend, and keeping secrets isn't something they've ever done. "Because she is."

Blue eyes widen in shock as his smirk is wiped from his face. "I was expecting you to tell me she's attending Tisch and is really into method acting."

"I wish I could tell you that," Rachel says, plopping down on Kurt's bed beside him. "But, no, she really is homeless." She then proceeds to tell Kurt everything she knows about Quinn's situation and what she's been doing to help her.

"Is she taking any steps to find housing or a job or anything?" Kurt asks.

Rachel shrugs. "All I know is that Quinn isn't fond of shelters for some reason and doesn't want me to call 311."

"So she's just, what, mooching off of you?"

"It's not like that," Rachel insists. "We're friends."

Kurt shakes his head. "You don't know anything about this girl, Rachel—not really. She's not some lost puppy that you can rescue. She needs to help herself."

"Well, sometimes people need help from others in order to do that," she argues. "I care about her, Kurt, and I cannot just sit idly by and do nothing."

He stares at her with a scrutinizing gaze, and Rachel feels herself bristle under it, scowling at him. He sighs and shakes his head again. "I know better than to try and talk you out of this. Just be careful, okay?"

* * *

Rachel's conversation with Kurt spurs her to do some research online to see what options might be available in terms of housing for the homeless. She's almost a little ashamed that she hadn't thought to do so before, but now that the colder months are upon them, Rachel is determined to help Quinn get settled somewhere. She doesn't care that Quinn has survived more than one New York City winter on the streets or that she isn't above breaking and entering into houses of worship to stay warm and dry—she needs a home.

After spending an hour at the Department of Homelessness Services website and making a few phone calls, Rachel feels a spark of hope—certain that she's come up with the perfect plan to help Quinn get back on her feet. She creates a power point, and then immediately realizes she doesn't have any way of showing it to Quinn. Unless…

She turns to look at the printouts of hers and Dani's respective schedules that are taped to the wall next to her desk. Rachel's last class gets out at 1:05 p.m. on Friday, and Dani's first class of the day starts at 2:00 p.m.

_Perfect_, she thinks with a growing smile.

* * *

They're at Eva's again for lunch when Rachel decides to pop the question. "So, I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you have an ID?"

"I do," Quinn confirms. "Why do you ask?" she asks, eyebrow raising and a smirk playing at her lips. "Want me to buy you some booze?"

"What? No," she denies, although now she's wondering why she hasn't asked Quinn this before, despite the fact that Dani and Tina have fake IDs, so getting alcohol is no problem. "I have something I want to show you, but you need to come to my dorm, and I'll have to sign you in."

Quinn's smirk falls then, transforming into something much warmer as her expression morphs into one of curiosity. Rachel can't help but return Quinn's smile with one of her own before digging back into her lunch, eager to bring Quinn to her room and hopefully get her on track to turning her life around. She doesn't miss how Quinn's gaze lingers a little longer before she, too, goes back to eating her sandwich.

As always, Rachel pays for their meal with her NYU card before the pair heads two blocks north to Brittany Hall. Once at the front desk, Quinn slips her backpack from her shoulders and takes out a worn, rubber Superman wallet from it, causing Rachel's brow to furrow a little. "I didn't know you were a Superman fan," she says.

Quinn shakes her head slightly as the edges of her lips quirk up. "I'm not," she explains, pulling out a state ID. "But an old friend of mine from back home was a huge comic geek, and this reminds me of him." Before Rachel can ask more about this mysterious friend, Quinn's attention is back on the security guard behind the desk, slender fingers sliding her ID across black marble.

Rachel finishes signing Quinn in before leading her through the lobby and toward the elevators. "Your friend," she starts, unable to hold back her desire to know everything about Quinn. "When did you last see him?"

"When I was sixteen. His name was Sam, and he was my only real friend," Quinn admits, her voice wistful as they step onto the elevator. Rachel presses the button for the third floor, but her attention is completely on Quinn. "His family moved to Tennessee the summer after our sophomore year."

Rachel frowns, thinking how awful it would have been if Kurt had moved away halfway through high school. "I'm sorry."

Thin shoulders shrug. "It's what it is." The elevator dings as it comes to a stop. "So what is it you have to show me?" Quinn asks as they make their way to Rachel's room.

"Well…" she says, turning the key in the lock and flicking on the lights, grateful that Dani is, indeed, at class as Quinn follows her inside. "It's something on my computer," she explains with an eager smile as she turns to face her guest fully. "But I thought maybe you might want to take a shower first."

A look of surprise flickers across Quinn's face. "I… are you sure?" she asks uncertainly, wrapping her hands around the straps of her bag.

Rachel nods. "Of course I'm sure," she replies, moving toward her bed and kneeling down to pull out the large plastic bin containing her extra sheets and towels. "Put your things down and make yourself at home." She turns to see Quinn hesitantly place her bag on the floor and remove her coat. "Here," she says, offering Quinn the towels, who takes them while gazing at Rachel in astonishment. "The Dove products are mine, so feel free to use those."

"Thank you," Quinn says gratefully, and Rachel beams, happy to be able to offer her this.

After Quinn disappears into the bathroom, Rachel settles down at her desk and wakes up her computer. She opens her power point presentation and then patiently waits for Quinn to finish—or at least tries to be patient. It's not exactly her strongest suit. She tries to busy herself by straightening up her desk and making Dani's bed, realizing that will be the optimal seat for Quinn to view her screen.

Not ten minutes later, Quinn steps out of the bathroom, fully dressed and toweling off her head. Rachel smiles at the sight. "How do you feel?"

"Honestly?" Quinn replies. "Amazing."

"I'm glad. I should have thought to offer to let you come here to do that sooner," she says with a thoughtful frown.

"Rachel…"

"In fact," she continues, not letting Quinn rebuff her as she steps into her space. "There are quite a few things I should have thought to do sooner."

Quinn's eyes widen slightly, and Rachel notices her throat bob up and down as she swallows.

Rachel bites her lower lip, feeling a slight shift in the air between them and temporarily forgetting what she was about to say as she stares up at Quinn.

"Like what?" Quinn finally asks, moving away from Rachel to hang up her towel and breaking some of the building tension.

She blinks and mentally shakes her head. "Like _really_ helping you get back on your feet," she replies, earning a look of confusion from Quinn as she gently guides her over to Dani's bed, instructing her to take a seat.

She then settles down at her desk and shakes her mouse, turning off the screensaver and displaying the cover page of her power point—a simple drawing of a house with a gold star in the middle of it and the words "Finding a Home: A Step-by-Step Plan, prepared by Rachel Berry," which she reads out loud before moving on to the first slide.

"Step 1: Apply at a DHS intake center," Rachel recites. "As a single woman, there are two locations available to you—HELP Women's Shelter in Brooklyn and Franklin Shelter in the Bronx."

She turns to see Quinn's reaction, hoping to see the same spark of excitement she first felt when learning about DHS's program. But to her dismay, instead she sees Quinn's body stiffen as her eyes narrow at the screen.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks worriedly.

"I had a really bad experience with DHS before," she replies, her voice laced with bitterness. "I don't trust them."

"What happened?"

She clenches her jaw before finally saying, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay…" Rachel trails off, wringing her hands together, feeling badly that she's inadvertently brought up bad memories for Quinn. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Hazel eyes widen as Quinn is seemingly snapped from her anger. "Hey, no," Quinn assures her, looking a little guilty. "Please don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong," she insists, her eyes taking on a slight shine. "I… the fact that you're trying to look out for me, it means _so much_. It's more than anyone has done for me in years. Maybe ever." She averts her gaze for a moment, as if steeling herself, before looking back at Rachel. "You can finish your power point, if you want."

Rachel wonders if Quinn will ever stop breaking her heart. "Not if it's going to make you upset," she declares with a small shake of her head, closing the lid on her laptop. "We'll figure something else out," she says then, feeling herself grow more determined at the thought. Surely there must be another way. "In the meantime, there's something else I intended to show you today," she finishes as she comes to stand, certain that it will be better received by Quinn than her power point.

Inquisitive eyes trace over her face momentarily, but Quinn dutifully follows after Rachel, making sure to grab her bag and coat on the way out the door. They take the elevator down to the first floor, and as soon as the doors open, without thinking, Rachel clasps Quinn's hand in hers and tugs lightly, leading Quinn down the hallway and toward the music room.

"Where are we going?" Quinn asks, her voice taking on an almost breathy quality that sends a pleasant shiver through Rachel.

"It's a surprise," she replies, her smile growing wider with every step. She's so excited to give Quinn this experience again.

Short moments later, they finally arrive at their destination, and as they cross the threshold, Rachel watches Quinn carefully, not wanting to miss a moment of her reaction.

Hazel eyes glisten as they take in the sight of the baby grand situated along the left side of the music room. Quinn's mouth opens as if to say something, but no words come out.

"Come on," Rachel says softly but excitedly as she pulls Quinn further into the room and over to the piano. She reluctantly lets go of Quinn's hand in order to go grab the drum stool from behind the kit on the other side of the room before bringing it alongside the piano.

Quinn once again sets her things down on the floor, eyes darting between the piano bench and Rachel's face before taking a seat.

"Play something for me?"

"I… it's been so long," Quinn says, nervously biting at her lower lip as she brushes her fingertips across ivory keys.

"It's okay," Rachel assures her. "I just wanted you to have the chance to play again."

Quinn lets out a steadying breath as her eyes close. Her brow furrows slightly then before her fingers press against the keys, the slow arpeggio of a G chord to a B then to a C followed by a C minor.

And then Quinn starts singing, and Rachel forgets to breathe.

"When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye. You're just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry." Quinn's voice is soft, but oh so lovely, and Rachel is almost afraid to move, not wanting to miss a note. "You float like a feather in a beautiful world. I wish I was special. You're so very special.

"But I'm a creep." Her face twists a little as her fingers press against the keys more firmly, loudly playing out the chord progression of the chorus. "I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.

"I don't care if it hurts," Quinn continues, her voice taking on a tinge of sadness as she goes back to playing chords as arpeggios. "I want to have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul. I want you to notice when I'm not around. You're so very special. I wish I was special."

"But I'm a creep," her voice rises as she pounds her fingers against the keys. "I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here."

Rachel knows this song well enough to know that there's lyrics for the bridge. She doesn't remember what they are, and she'll have to find out later, because Quinn instead has decided to play the vocal line as a solo with her right hand and her left continues to bang out the chord progression. The energy and volume build before slowly leveling out.

"Whatever makes you happy. Whatever you want. You're so very special. I wish I was special," Quinn sings again, her voice washing soothingly over Rachel, and this time when she plays the final chorus, it's soft. "But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here. I don't belong here."

Quinn plays the final three chords, suspending the last one as she lets out a long breath before finally opening her eyes once more, turning to gaze upon Rachel like she has so often in recent days. Rachel recognizes what it is now, and she could smack herself for not realizing it sooner. The way Quinn is looking at her is exactly how Jesse used to look at her, and she momentarily stops breathing, getting lost in flecks of green and gold.

A sudden sharp knock on the door startles Rachel, breaking the spell she had fallen under.

Quinn looks back down at her hands, and Rachel mentally shakes her head as she walks over to the door and opens it. A girl on the other side asks when they'll be finished, hoping to get some practice in. Rachel tells her that they'll be finished soon. She closes the door once more and lets out a sigh, walking back into the room.

"I should go," Quinn says then, coming to stand—her expression unreadable—and Rachel can't stop the rush of disappointment that comes over her.

"So soon?"

"Yeah," is the only response offered.

"Okay," she agrees, somewhat confused as she reluctantly follows Quinn down the hallway to wait for the elevator. "Did I do something wrong?"

Quinn turns to face Rachel then, a look of alarm painting her features. "No," she states emphatically. "You could never. I… I just need to clear my head."

The elevator arrives then, and Quinn averts her gaze as she steps inside, Rachel just a step behind.

Nothing else is said on the short ride down to the lobby, and Rachel sighs as the doors open, sad to see their time together cut short. There's a sinking feeling in her stomach as she signs Quinn out, and the sad smile Quinn offers her before walking out the door does nothing to quell it whatsoever.

* * *

"You've been staring at that same measure for the last five minutes," Elliot observes as they sit together doing their music theory homework in the student center. "I know it's not that difficult. What's wrong?"

Rachel sighs and abandons her homework completely for the time being. "It's Quinn," she admits. "I haven't seen her in four days, and I'm going out of my mind with worry. What if something terrible happening to her? What if she fell onto the subway tracks or got hit by a maniac taxi driver?" she asks, feeling herself grow more hysterical by the second. "I wouldn't know, and she'd be all alone, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," he interrupts, grabbing a hold of Rachel's hand and squeezing reassuringly. "I'm sure she's alright. It's been a little colder out. She's probably just somewhere she can stay warm."

She wishes that Elliot's words offered the comfort and assurance intended, but the knot in her stomach only grows bigger.

* * *

Rachel doesn't see Quinn for another week, and when she finally does, Quinn isn't in one of her usual places in Washington Square Park or on University Place. Instead, she's in Cooper Square, bundled up in her ratty, winter coat with a wool hat atop her head and a weathered paper cup in hand.

Relief floods her at the sight, and Rachel quickens her pace. "Where have you been?" she demands as soon as reaches Quinn's side. "I've been so worried about you."

Quinn startles at the sound of her voice before shifting her gaze up and staring at Rachel guiltily. She looks like she's about to say something before thinking better of it, instead looking away and down at her lap.

Rachel frowns and settles down on the sidewalk beside Quinn.

"I didn't mean to make you worry," she says after a beat, once again turning her gaze upon Rachel. "I just… you've done so much for me. _Too_ much. I don't want to take advantage of you anymore."

"You're _not_ taking advantage of me," Rachel insists. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Quinn presses her lips together, eyes searching Rachel's with a mixture of worry and wistfulness. "I'm not the kind of person you should want as a friend," she finally says with a slight shake of her head.

"Don't be silly, Quinn."

"I'm not. Rachel, you don't…" Quinn looks away, staring straight ahead at the small park across the street. "I'm not a good person."

"I don't agree," Rachel argues, leaning in and tentatively placing her hand on Quinn's thigh. "You're a wonderful person."

Hazel eyes dart down at the hand on her leg, and she shakes her head once more. "I've been to prison, you know."

The confession is unexpected and rattles Rachel, and, to her chagrin, she feels a sudden sliver of uncertainty about the girl sitting next to her. She doesn't like the feeling—not one bit. "For what?" she manages to ask.

A few coins are dropped into Quinn's cup then, startling Rachel a little, and she pulls her hand back while Quinn offers a quick thank you to the man.

"For what?" Rachel tries again.

"Assaulting a police officer," Quinn finally replies, still not looking at Rachel.

Her brow furrows. She wasn't sure what she expected, but that certainly wasn't it. "Why? Why would you do something like that?"

Quinn sighs. "I didn't mean to do it. I… you remember how I told you I got mixed up with some people who weren't so good?"

"Yeah."

"Well, a few years ago, this girl Mack, she offered me a place to stay since I was still homeless. I had just gotten a job waitressing, but I didn't have enough to put down a security deposit, so I still couldn't get a place on my own. So Mack and I shared a tiny, studio apartment in the projects on the Upper West Side. Not much, but it was a roof over my head, and things were finally looking up," Quinn explains, her eyes stormy and her body tense. "And I kind of had a thing going on with Mack, even though she had a boyfriend. So I wasn't really paying attention to things I should have."

"Like what?" Rachel asks, feeling strangely jealous over the mention of this girl Mack.

"Turns out she was taking my money for rent but never actually paying the rent. I came home from work one night to find an eviction notice. Mack wasn't there—I guess she was out with that asshole boyfriend of hers. I was beyond pissed off and in the process of packing my stuff up, I came across her stash of liquor. I started drinking and wound up prowling around on the street, waiting for her to come home so I could give her a piece of my mind.

"My memory of that night is kind of fuzzy," Quinn admits. "All I remember is seeing her and flipping out. I wanted my money back—I _needed_ my money back. But she…" Quinn's hands unconsciously tighten around the cup in her hand. "I don't know who swung first, her or me, but someone must have called the cops on us while we were still yelling at each other. I was just so lost in a haze of alcohol and rage that I didn't know what was going on. A cop tried to break up our fight—he grabbed me from behind, and I threw an elbow into his face." Quinn swallows thickly, clearly ashamed of herself. "Hitting a cop like that… jail time was inevitable."

Rachel doesn't quite know what to say—stunned by Quinn's story—but the niggling of uncertainty that had made itself present is no longer a factor. Instead, she feels her heart going out to Quinn.

"Turns out I'm not so different from my dad," Quinn says bitterly, finally looking at Rachel once more. "So you should stay away from me, Rachel."

"Is that really what you want?"

Quinn doesn't answer, but Rachel doesn't miss the hint of longing in her eyes.

"I don't think it is," Rachel says knowingly. "Look, I know you've made some mistakes in the past, but that doesn't define you. I still think you're a wonderful person, and I want to be your friend."

Quinn stares at her, clearly conflicted. "You shouldn't be so trusting."

"I like to think I have excellent judgment when it comes to other people, and you are worthy of my trust," she counters before pleading, "Please don't push me away, Quinn."

"Okay," Quinn finally relents. "I won't push you away."

Rachel smiles, beyond relieved. "Come on, why don't we get out of the cold?" she says, rising to her feet and holding out her hand for Quinn to take. "I'm in the mood for soup."

"Soup sounds good," Quinn says softly, her eyes shining with so much affection, Rachel almost doesn't feel the chill anymore.

* * *

The Sunday before Thanksgiving finds Rachel and Quinn in the laundry room at Brittany Hall, sitting atop the washing machines and waiting for their clothes to dry. Quinn had tried to reimburse Rachel for the cost of washing and drying her own clothes, but Rachel steadfastly refused, instead using her NYU card to cover the cost of both hers and Quinn's laundry.

"I wish I could take you home with me for Thanksgiving," Rachel says with a sigh.

"I'm sure your dads would love that," Quinn says with a slight roll of her eyes.

"They would!" Rachel insists. "They love having company."

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothing," Rachel cuts her off. She frowns then at the thought of Quinn being alone during the upcoming holiday. "What _are_ you going to do for Thanksgiving?"

"Probably go to the soup kitchen," she says with a shrug. "That's what I did last year."

Rachel frowns. She hates the idea of Quinn spending the holiday like that. And she hates that she's nowhere near finding another solution to finding Quinn a home. "I know you had a bad experience with DHS, but maybe you should give them another chance."

"No way," Quinn says with a scowl, shaking her head adamantly. "I don't want to do anything that involves DHS. They completely screwed me over after I got out of prison."

"What happened?" Rachel asks, hopeful that now that the truth about Quinn's past behind bars is out, she'll be more willing to explain things.

"It's sort of complicated," she explains. "I was supposed to be put in subsidized housing, but then the city decided to do away with that. So I was staying in a shelter, and my caseworker was a complete asshole. Basically, he was supposed to help me find an apartment and a job, but if I didn't accept what he found—regardless of whether or not the place was clean or safe—I'd be kicked out of the program."

"That doesn't sound very fair," Rachel says, lips curving downward.

"It wasn't," Quinn concedes. "I tried finding a job for myself, but no one would hire me once they did a background check. Hitting a cop is a felony offense, you know."

"That's discrimination!"

"It is," she says with a wry smile. "But it's not like I could prove it. Still, I knew that's what was going on. My caseworker was supposed to advocate for me, but he was pretty useless.

"Anyway, there was this woman staying at the shelter. I think her name was Lauren," Quinn continues, anger flashing in her eyes. "She would steal people's things, and one night I came back to find my books missing. I knew it was her, and I confronted her. She was a big girl, you know, with a really bad temper. She beat the living hell out of me, and yet somehow, I was blamed for the fight, and my caseworker kicked me out of the program." Quinn shakes her head, pursing her lips slightly before finishing. "I've been on the streets ever since."

Rachel, for her part, is outraged. "If anyone should have been kicked out, it should have been that woman," she retorts. "Or better yet, that sorry excuse for a caseworker."

"Yup," she agrees. "Will was a real piece of work. There were other caseworkers who were actually helpful from what I understand. Figures that I got stuck with the worst DHS had to offer."

"I'm so sorry, Quinn."

Quinn shakes her head. "Don't be," she says before letting out a sigh and rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I'm tired of talking about me so much though. I want to hear more about you. Are you excited to go home?"

"Yes and no," Rachel replies. "I'm looking forward to seeing my family, but all of my friends are here. And I'm going to miss you."

Pink lips curve up into a warm smile as hazel eyes sparkle. "You'll be back here before you know it."

* * *

Quinn's words turn out to be correct, and after a brief trip back home to Michigan for Thanksgiving break, Rachel is back in New York City and preparing for the home stretch of her first semester. She's looking forward to her upcoming performances, but most of all, she looks forward to the time she gets to spend with Quinn.

Over the next two weeks, they fall into a different sort of routine. Not only does Rachel make sure her friend is fed, but she now brings her to Brittany Hall more often—whether to shower, wash her clothes, or just hang out in the warmth of her dorm room—unbeknownst to Dani. She wishes Quinn could spend the night—and sometimes, Rachel lets herself imagine what it would be like to cuddle up with Quinn under her blankets—but NYU's guest rules are strict when it comes to overnight stays. Even if they weren't, Rachel's not sure she's ready to have _that_ conversation with her roommate. As it stands now, she's very glad that Dani seems to be running on a schedule completely opposite hers.

But since overnight stays are currently off the table, Rachel has taken it upon herself to make sure Quinn will stay as warm as possible when not under her watchful eye. Using campus cash, she purchases sweatshirts, socks, and the thickest, warmest blanket she can find at the NYU Bookstore. Of course, Quinn tries to refuse her gifts, saying that it's too much, but Rachel is stubborn because Quinn _needs_ these things.

She also needs a home and a job, but to Rachel's growing frustration, she hasn't been able to find another path—at least not one that doesn't involve DHS in some way—to getting Quinn there. Still, she isn't going to give up on her. Not when so many others have done the same.

* * *

Sometimes Rachel catches Quinn staring at her when Quinn thinks she isn't paying attention. Like right now, for instance.

Rachel is currently sitting at her desk, working on her final paper for her Writing the Essay class. Quinn is laying on her stomach across Rachel's bed, arms propped up on her pillow, reading an old copy of _The_ _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. At least, she _was_ reading. Presently, her eye line is fixed somewhere just above the page, and Rachel can feel those eyes watching her.

There's definitely something more to Quinn's gaze—a quiet intensity and longing—and it excites Rachel. She's not quite sure when or how it happened, but she's falling for Quinn. Rachel hasn't felt this way about anyone since Jesse, and the idea that Quinn might feel the same way has her stomach erupting with butterflies.

* * *

The first Friday of December finds Rachel and Quinn lazing about in Rachel's room, lounging together on her bed. There's a comfortable silence between them—the only sound in the room coming from Rachel's iPod dock, which is currently playing the soundtrack of _Once_. Quinn is freshly showered and laying on Rachel's bed with her eyes closed.

Rachel watches her, focusing on her hands and the way her chest rises and falls as she breathes. Brown eyes move up and caress her face, her jaw, her lips, and, feeling a sudden swell of courage and unable to hold back any longer, Rachel leans down and brushes her mouth against Quinn's.

Quinn doesn't kiss her back, but Rachel feels her tense and take a sharp intake of breath, and when Rachel pulls away, she sees Quinn staring up at her—confliction showing in her eyes. For one, terrible moment, Rachel is afraid she's ruined everything.

When Quinn finally speaks, her voice is quiet and wistful. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you're so achingly beautiful, and I couldn't stand not to kiss you a second longer," she answers honestly.

Quinn smiles sadly. "We can't cross that line, Rachel."

Rachel's brow furrows as she feels her stomach start to twist unpleasantly, worrying that she somehow misread the way Quinn looks at her. "Why not? Do you not feel the same way?"

A doleful laugh escapes Quinn then. "Oh, Rachel, that couldn't be further from the truth. I'm crazy about you," she replies, instantly making warmth blossom in Rachel's chest, but her confusion remains. "But I'm a complete mess. Your life is just starting out—you have so many great things going for you, and you deserve so much better than anything I can give you."

"I don't need you to give me anything, Quinn," she insists, taking a hold of Quinn's hand in both of hers. "I just… I really like you, and I want to be closer to you."

Quinn lets out a long breath and closes her eyes as she lightly squeezes Rachel's hand. "I can't," she says, her voice pained. "As much as I want that too—to be closer to you—I can't do it, Rachel."

Rachel feels her stomach dip again, and she worries her lower lip. She doesn't understand why Quinn is being so stubborn—why she would deny them this. Maybe she just needs a little more convincing.

So she dips her head, pressing a more insistent kiss to Quinn's lips. And this time, Quinn kisses back, and Rachel feels herself fall—her toes curling and her heart soaring as Quinn's mouth moves against hers.

"Stop making this so hard," Quinn pleads breathlessly against her lips once they break apart for air. "I'm not good for you, Rachel."

Rachel shakes her head and draws herself back just enough to stare down intently into hazel eyes. "I don't care if you think I deserve better. I want you, and you want me. I know things are hard for you right now, but they'll get better."

"Sometimes I forget that you're still seventeen," Quinn replies with a shake of her head. "And incredibly naïve."

"My age has nothing to do with this," she argues, feeling a little sting from Quinn's words. "And I'm _not_ naïve. I've always believed in following my heart, and I believe we could be so much more together, Quinn."

"I'm _homeless_," Quinn retorts despondently. "I'm only going to bring you down, and if you were really honest with yourself, you'd see that."

"You're wrong," Rachel insists, cupping Quinn's face. "You're not going to bring me down. Let me help bring you back up." She captures Quinn's lips in another kiss, and she feels Quinn surrender.

"You can't save me," Quinn says softly with a hint of desperation.

Rachel doesn't respond with words, and instead kisses Quinn again with every intention of doing exactly that.

* * *

"Are you out of your mind?" Kurt asks shrilly when Rachel tells him what happened with Quinn. "For starters, she's too old for you. Secondly, she's _homeless_."

"I don't see why either of those things should matter," she defends. "She's an amazing person who I've connected with deeply."

He sighs through the phone. "You're playing with fire."

"Why can't you be happy for me?" she asks petulantly.

"Because I'm worried about you," he answers honestly. "The way you've been trying to help Quinn is certainly admirable, but being romantically involved with her? It spells disaster. And what are you going to tell your parents?"

"I don't have to tell my dads anything right now," she argues. "And she's not going to be homeless forever. I won't stand for it."

"Sometimes there are things that are beyond your control, Rachel," he reminds her. "You don't have the means to give her the things she really needs. All you've done so far is put a band aid on her situation."

Rachel practically growls in frustration. "I just wanted to share my good news with you. I thought you wanted me to move on from Jesse."

"I did," he insists. "I did. And I like Quinn, Rachel, I do. The way she looks at you—there's no doubt that she cares about you deeply. But you have to admit, the circumstances are _terrible_."

"I know, but I don't care. I'm falling for her, Kurt."

"Oh, sweetie," Kurt replies softly. "I'd say she's a lucky girl, but…"

"If you were here right now, I'd smack you," she mutters before sighing. "Promise me you'll behave yourself when we all go out for my birthday next Tuesday."

"Of course I will. I'm not exactly the one you should be telling that to."

Kurt's right, she realizes with a slight wince. Tina's the one who's going to disapprove most of all. She's not exactly looking forward to that conversation.

* * *

Kissing Quinn is fast becoming one of Rachel's favorite activities. In fact, right now it ranks higher than performing, and that's something she never even imagined was possible. Quinn does things with her mouth that make Rachel's stomach erupt with butterflies and her world burst into color.

She especially likes kissing Quinn like this—a slow exploration of lips and tongues while she has Quinn's warm body pinned beneath her. Rachel knows that a part of Quinn is still fighting against this, but she also knows that with every kiss she bestows upon her, she convinces Quinn that this is exactly where she belongs.

Rachel is vaguely aware of the sound of jangling keys before registering the lock of a door clicking open. Nervousness rushes through her, and she unconsciously breaks her mouth away from Quinn's as she sits up, eyes flying toward to the now-opening door, only to see Dani returning home earlier than expected.

Her roommate's eyes alight with intrigue and a smirk plays at her lips as Dani takes in the sight of Rachel straddling Quinn, registering just what she interrupted, and heat rushes to Rachel's cheeks at being caught in a compromising position.

And then she sees who is standing right behind Dani, and a fresh wave of anxiousness hits her. Rachel blinks and swallows before glancing down at Quinn, her skin flushed and eyes blown, but looking a little uncertain herself. She realizes then that Quinn can't actually see who just walked into the room from her position on the bed—and that she's still straddling Quinn.

"Should we come back later?" Dani asks playfully, drawing Rachel's attention back to the pair near the doorway.

She's about to say yes, if only to avoid any awkwardness and the inevitable questions, when a pair of brown eyes focused on Quinn's pink head suddenly shine with recognition and then shock as lips curve downward.

Tina's eyes lock on Rachel's then, and her confusion and disapproval clear as day.

Dani seems to notice the shift in mood and looks between the two of them curiously. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Tina replies, unable to keep the disapproval out of her voice as she crosses her arms. "I was hoping Rachel might be able to explain just what she's doing in bed with _her_ of all people."

Quinn tenses beneath Rachel then, and Rachel feels her hackles rise. "How dare you?" she asks with narrowed eyes, finally moving off of Quinn, as she comes to stand beside the bed. She can already feel her body start to shake with unrestrained emotion, and reining it in is impossible now. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Quinn come to sit at the edge of her bed, running a nervous hand through pink hair as she looks down at the ground. "Quinn is my friend," Rachel declares, "and I will not tolerate you speaking of her in a disparaging way."

"She's taking advantage of you," Tina argues, and Dani's look of curiosity morphs into one of total bewilderment. "How much money have you given to and spent on her?"

"That's _none_ of your business! What I do with my money is my choice and my choice alone," Rachel shoots back, ignoring the fact that technically she's been spending her father's money, but Tina doesn't need to know that. "And Quinn is _not_ taking advantage of me," she continues before turning her gaze back toward Quinn and feeling herself soften a little at the almost vulnerable way she's looking at her right now. "She makes me unbelievably happy."

Quinn offers her a watery smile, eyes shining with gratitude.

Tina stares at Rachel for a long moment, clearly conflicted. "I just don't want you to get hurt," she finally says, uncrossing her arms and looking at them both worriedly.

At that, Quinn finally looks toward Tina. "I know what you think of me," she says with a self-deprecating smile. "And I'm not going to pretend for a minute that I deserve Rachel. Believe me, I know how lucky I am to have her in my life. But I can promise you that I would never intentionally hurt her."

Rachel feels herself grow warm all over at Quinn's words, forcing her anger to almost dissipate completely.

Tina nods reluctantly then, and relief washes over Rachel. She hates fighting with people, and Tina's friendship is one she values greatly. For a moment, she was afraid that she would lose it.

"Okay, I'm really, really confused," Dani says.

"Dani, this is my… friend, Quinn," she introduces, realizing that the word "friend" seems like it's not enough, but "girlfriend" seems like it might be too much just yet. "Quinn, this is my roommate, Dani."

"It's nice to meet you," Dani says agreeably, and Quinn echoes the sentiment.

Tina steps further into the room, coming to stand beside Rachel's bed. "I'd like to start over, if that's okay," she says to Quinn then.

"That's more than okay with me," Quinn agrees, holding her hand out for Tina to take.

"I'm still confused," Dani admits watching the two of them, and Rachel knows she'll have to explain the whole story to her roommate later, but for now, she's just relieved that her relationship with Quinn is something that her friends accept.

* * *

Rachel wakes up with a smile on her face. Today is going to be a good day; she just knows it. She decides on an abbreviated morning routine, eager to start her day.

Quinn is waiting for Rachel outside, tucked into the alcove of the entrance to Brittany Hall. Hazel eyes light up as soon as they catch sight of Rachel walking though the lobby, and it makes her feel like she's floating on air. She pushes the door open, eager to spend the day with Quinn.

"Happy birthday," Quinn greets her with a warm smile that belies the cold temperature surrounding them.

"Thank you," Rachel replies with a smile of her own, pulling Quinn in for a hug before drawing back slightly to brush her lips against Quinn's in a soft kiss.

Rachel pulls away and watches as Quinn's eyelids flutter open, feeling incredibly pleased at the slightly dazed expression on Quinn's face—loving that she's responsible for putting it there.

Quinn blinks and shakes her head lightly, as if coming back to herself. "I got you something," she says then, pulling out a card and a small, white box from her left coat pocket.

"You really didn't need to get me anything," Rachel says, feeling a little guilty that Quinn spent any money at all on her, even though it is her birthday.

"I really did," Quinn insists as she hands the small gift over to Rachel.

Rachel bites her lower lip as she accepts it. She carefully opens the envelope first and takes out the card. Her lips automatically curve up when she looks at the front of it—a pink and blue background featuring four silver stars and text that reads: _Shine bright. Dream big._

Flipping it open, she's taken aback by what she sees on the inside of the card. "Did you draw this?" she asks, taking in the sight of the intricate pattern of flowers and stars that surround the words "Happy birthday."

"I did," Quinn confirms.

"It's incredible," Rachel says, awed. "I didn't know you could draw." She looks up at Quinn, who is watching her with a mixture of nervousness and hopefulness. Right, the box. Turning her attention back to it, she lifts the lid. "Oh, Quinn…" she says as her eyes land on a small, hollow, gold star pendant on a thin chain.

"I know it's not much," Quinn says shyly, "but I saw it and thought of you."

Rachel shakes her head, happy tears forming in her eyes as she gazes back up at Quinn. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it." Quinn smiles again, looking incredibly relieved. "There's something else… I'm going to give DHS another try. I've met a few times with the woman who will be my caseworker, and I applied for their intaking process yesterday."

"Quinn, that's wonderful!" she beams, before throwing her arms around Quinn. "I'm so proud of you," she breathes against her neck, hugging Quinn tighter.

As soon as they pull apart, Quinn takes Rachel's hands in her own and gazes at her seriously. "That's what I want, Rachel. I want to be someone you can be proud of. For so long, I've been resigned to living on the streets, but you came along and flipped my world upside down. You make me want to be better."

Quinn caps off her declaration with a kiss, and Rachel smiles into it, her body thrumming with hope for Quinn's future and excitement for their journey together. It's the best birthday present of all.

* * *

_End_


End file.
